authority that characterizes the present age, have produced a class of patients who provokingly assert their right “to know what you are about with them.” Such are awkward people of whom to make use. These persons are not liked in the wards, and are frequently cured right away and sent about their business with indecent haste. A sort of ungrateful folk that want to get all they can out of the hospitals, and then be off. A most unappreciative class, which seems a growing one too. “Like to know what they thinks ’ospitals is for?” said Podger. “Seems to me they think ’em ’otels!” Latimer complained in his day, that “physick was a remedy prepared only for rich folks, and not for poor, for the poor man is not able to wage the physician.” He could not fairly say that now. It is possible, if good Master Latimer were preaching one of his plain sermons at Paul’s Cross, he would complain for quite an opposite reason. CHAPTER XXI. TAKEN IN. Although hospitals have been intended as a blessing and benefit to the poor, they have too often proved the reverse, on account of the ignorance on the part of their administrators of the true principles of health.—_Encyclopædia Britannica._ There are diviner, truer laws, That teach a nobler lesson still. _Procter._ One of the greatest blots upon hospital management of the present day is the abuse of alcoholic drinks. The immense amount of spirits needlessly, and often not harmlessly, given to the patients is a serious tax on the resources of the charities, and a fertile cause of dram-drinking in the people at large. As you pass along the wards and read the cards over the beds, indicating the diet and amount of drink ordered by the medical officers, it is startling to see how many sick or convalescent patients are ordered six ounces of whisky or brandy a day. Now six ounces represent three wineglassfuls of good average size, or say nearly two bottles a week. This is expensive, to say the least—of very questionable service in most cases to say nothing more. That the custom has its advantages in an hospital like the one we were describing is indisputable—to the medical staff. Where a system obtains by constant worrying and painful, or at least unpleasant physical examinations, it is of great assistance to doctors and nurses to have at hand an unfailing means of putting and keeping the patient in good humour and benevolent docility. Does he object to be “mauled about,” as he sometimes inelegantly calls his dose of “palpation and stethoscopy,” his equanimity is at once restored by the comfortable words of the doctor, “An ounce of brandy, sister!” Should he object to his treatment, and rebel against the hallowed customs of the place, considering he has a right to the orderly arrangement and general integrity of his own limbs, he is a lucky fellow if upon an early date